


In memoria

by JustAnotherGhostwriter



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ana Obie Howard and Steve all get significant mentions, Chock full of personal headcanons, Fluff with a large helping of soreness, Gen, Godmother!Peggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 20:57:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherGhostwriter/pseuds/JustAnotherGhostwriter
Summary: Three small but significant moments between Peggy and Tony through the years, concerning identity and role models.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheron/gifts), [Ultra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultra/gifts).



> Let me just preface this with an explanation that is also a warning. I have one pair of Iron Man socks, three Iron Man Tshirts, nine Iron Man posters, an Iron Man lego mini figure, the extended/collector’s editions of the DVDs, Iron Man stationary and an Iron Man soap dispenser. That should tell you all you need to know about who my favourite Marvel superhero is, my level of obsession and why, when I saw these two prompts, my brain immediately screamed, “Oh, boy! A chance to shove some of my really bad headcanons on people!”
> 
> I apologise in advance. 
> 
> I also beg with all my heart and virtual cupcakes that any comments please be free of spoilers. I live (almost literally) in the middle of nowhere and, as such, have not yet seen Civil War, Homecoming, Black Panther or Infinity War. I’m trying valiantly to change that, but my efforts have come to naught up until now and spoilers have become something of a personal nemesis to me. Obviously I have not been able to remain completely spoiler-free (CACW came out _two bloody years_ ago) but I've managed to thwart the nemesis on all accounts for the three most recent films, at lest. Please aid me in fighting said nemesis by not allowing said nemesis into the comments of this fic.

There was something to the old _be careful what you wish for_ adage, Peggy thought as she watched SHIELD agents hauling the men they’d just arrested out of the warehouse. Just the other day she’d been nostalgic about the good old days full of near-misses, excitement, good comrades by her side and the rush of saving the day that made the very air seem sweeter. 

The problem with nostalgia was that it hid the other parts of the _good old days_ – the physical and emotional aches when they couldn’t manage another miraculous near-miss. The terror and fear and real danger that hounded the excitement with bared teeth. How the possibility of not saving the day could be catastrophic. And the effect it all had on the good comrades by her side. 

Rubbing her split knuckles gingerly and wondering absently when her hand had become so wrinkled, Peggy turned away from the sight of the arrests and faced Mr Jarvis instead. His face was lined and dented in ways it wasn't in her memory, but the look on his face was the same one he’d worn when he’d been hellbent on killing Witney Frost for what she’d done to his Ana. In fact, the only reason Peggy wasn’t worried he would throw himself (again) at the men currently being led away was because of the precious cargo he clutched in his arms in an almost unrelenting grip. 

“You really should let the medical officer examine you,” Peggy told him, quietly. Jarvis' mouth and grip both tightened in silent, stubborn refusal. As gently as she could - she understood very well the instinct to clutch tight and not let go - Peggy added, " _Both_ of you should be attended to. You may have caught them by surprise by shooting out of the shadows like that, Mr Jarvis, but they are trained individuals. And I saw them strike back. And..." 

She stopped just short of adding fuel to the nightmares that must be chasing around in Jarvis' head of what _could_ have happened in the eight hours since they received the ransome note. Her beat of silence dragged on painfully, and then Tony shifted in Jarvis' arms and turned his face toward Peggy. 

"They didn't hurt me," he said, voice small. 

"I would still like a doctor to check, love," Peggy said, firmly. "Just to be extra sure. And you know there is always a prize for young men who are good at the doctor's office."

Tony half nestled his face into Jarvis' shoulder, his eyes flickering to the SHIELD personnel milling around. His reply was somewhat muffled by Jarvis' filthy jacket. "I don't think they're real doctors. I don't think _they_ are real cops." His eyes were distrustful as he tracked the movements of two of Peggy's top agents who she'd placed in charge of the cleanup operation. 

"They're special sorts of police," Peggy said, smoothly. "That's why they're not wearing the police uniform. But I saw their badges, I promise."

She hoped Tony wasn't suspicious enough to ask to see the badges; she'd learned long ago not to underestimate the observational prowess of children. And Howard's son was especially bright - they would have to be even more careful from then on if they wanted to keep Tony from learning about SHIELD. 

"Well. They seem to have everything under control here," Jarvis said, quickly, "so I'm sure we could go home, now. Yes?" 

Peggy nodded and sent Jarvis and Tony to the car while she filled in her people and made doubly sure Howard had been contacted and told that his son was safe. She knew Howard had sent for the blueprints the kidnappers had demanded in exchange for Tony's safe return even after she'd told him she was going on that mission personally, and while she couldn't blame him for not taking any risks when it came to his son, she also didn't want any risk of the blueprints making their way into the wrong hands. 

"Your mom and dad are on their way back even as we speak. You'll see them in the morning," she told Tony with a smile as she slipped into the passenger seat. 

Tony's face turned delighted and then worried. But when asked about the expression he just shook his head and took to looking out the window. By the time they pulled up at the Stark mansion, Tony had fallen asleep on the back seat. Jarvis scooped him up as soon as he was able, tucking him close with one arm and trying to remove the bag of hastily-packed clothes and tools they'd taken with them _just in case_ with the other. Peggy took pity on his struggles and wordlessly helped to remove the bag, taking the keys to the house from Jarvis' fingers before he could attempt to wrestle one-handed with the doors. 

"You told me once that you were thinking of leaving Howard's employ. Something about growing tired of moving bodies in and out of Stark homes," Peggy teased quietly, trying to ease the heavy darkness that was still present on Jarvis' face. 

"I do admit to saying that." Jarvis hoisted Tony more firmly into his arms. "And then Mrs Stark came home from the hospital and placed a two-day old bundle in my arms and..."

"It changed everything," Peggy finished for him, speaking from experience. 

She managed to unlock the front door, but somehow tripped the security alarm. Jarvis' booming warning blared out of the loudspeakers and she tried not to swear out loud as she fumbled with the buttons. 

"We really have to get a better system," Jarvis grumbled as he kicked the door closed behind him. 

"I like this one," Tony protested around a huge yawn, apparently mostly awake again. "Ana says it's your big voice. She likes it, too."

"Yes, well." Jarvis shifted Toby slightly. "My beloved Ana also enjoys Hungarian cuisine. So... Speaking of. How about dinner?" Peggy saw Tony shake his head sleepily. "Cocoa?" Another shake. "Tea?" This one was directed at Peggy. 

"Please," she said with great feeling. "But why don't I get it started while you put Tony to bed?" 

That plan was thwarted by the ringing phone. People had gotten wind of a Stark weapon potentially being handed over to unfriendlies, and since Stark himself was currently in the air and unreachable, soothing ruffled feathers with context- and Stark-specific information fell to Jarvis. After it became clear the call would take a while, Peggy began the process of gently extracting a rapidly fading Tony from Jarvis' arms. 

"I do know how to put children to bed, Mr Jarvis," she told him when Tony had finally wriggled down to the floor and surrendered his hand happily to her grasp. "And I haven't seen your room in ages, Tony. I think the last time was when you were around two."

Tony paused in the act of rubbing at his eyes to give Peggy a scandalised look. "But that was _three years_ ago, Aunt Peggy! It was still a baby's room, then!" 

"Which is why I'm looking forward to seeing it, now. Come along."

"'Night, Jarvis"

Peggy was sure, for a moment, that Jarvis was going to break his general non-hugging rule. But instead he simply placed a palm on Tony's head and let the touch linger. Tony, content with the benediction, began leading Peggy upstairs, too tired for even his usual chatter. He rallied a bit in order to push the door to his room open with a Stark showman flair and - 

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but the shock of blue, white and red from every square inch of the place had not been it. There was not an object or flat surface that was not in some way dedicated to Captain America apparel - the bookshelf even bore signs of the hated comic books she was sure Tony was too young for. The shock was such a sock to the gut that she took too long to realise Tony was standing still and quiet, watching her reaction. 

"Your room is wonderful," she forced out, and even managed to put enough warmth into her tone that Tony's rigid form thawed. "Pyjamas now, please. You're rather dirty, but I think a bath will have to wait."

He scrambled to do as he was told, and Peggy was left staring at Steve's face watching her from half a dozen posters and flyers. Some of them were the originals from the war, she realised with a start. Howard must have kept some. Or tracked some down. 

"Did you know Captain America too, Aunt Peggy?" Tony asked as she helped him under the covers. 

"I did, love. He was... A good friend of mine."

Tony's look was a strange one, and instinct made her fuss needlessly with the fold in the blanket while he gained courage to speak. 

"Aunt Peggy..." Tony wriggled a bit. "Did I make things wrong for Dad? Making him come home early just 'cause I got..." His face scrunched up as he tried and failed to grasp the right word. 

"No, no, Tony. It wasn't your fault."

"So...he won't be mad?" 

"He is not, and will not be, angry about this. It was just a work party. He can go to many others. He only has one of you. That makes you the most special," Peggy said, firmly. 

Tony mulled this over for a quiet moment and then blurted, "So will I get full stars for today?" Peggy's uncomprehending blink was taken as the request to explain further. "Those men kept making me take a box that would shock you when they wanted it to. They found it funny to make me hold it." Horror and rage slipped into Peggy's gut and made her hands clench. She wished she'd hit those men harder. "So I opened it when they weren't looking and made it shock them instead," Tony said, eagerly, his gaze emploring. "Cap would have done something smart like that, right?" 

"I... Suppose... But, Tony, you told me those men hadn't hurt you."

"They didn't." Tony puffed out his chest as much as he could, lying down. "Stark men are made of iron," he said in a tone that met Peggy know at once that it was quoted. "So I was as brave as Cap today? Will I get full stars?" 

"Full stars for what, love?" Peggy asked. 

Tony wriggled out of bed and ran to his closet, flinging open the door. On the inside a large sheet of paper was taped, on which a bar graph was drawn. The y-axis showed the dates of the current month, and the x-axis was a scale of one to ten. The bar graph itself was made up of a number of star stickers stacked by each day's date. At the top, in Howard's big writing, stood _How Much Was I Like Captain America Today?_

"I've only got an eight, before," Tony said, still painfully, hopefully eager. "Will today get full stars, Aunt Peggy? You said you were his friend. You know."

 _Oh, Howard_. 

Not trusting herself to speak, yet, Peggy simply beckoned Tony back to bed. He obeyed, but his gait was much slower than his eager bound to the closet had been. 

"You," Peggy said, tucking him in, "were brilliant today. You did so well. You were brave and smart and very, very good. You were full stars like Anthony Edward Stark today. And that is even better than being exactly like Captain America. He would have been proud of you. I am very proud of you. Jarvis and Ana and your mom and dad are very proud of you."

Tony's wide grin was broken by his large yawn."'Night, Aunt Peggy."

"Goodnight, darling. Call Jarvis if you have any nightmares."

"I never have nightmares," Tony yawned, dismissive. "They can't get me."

Peggy gave him a sad smile he didn't see, wishing she could say the same. Despite Tony's insistence, she stayed by his side with the light on, stroking his hair until he fell asleep, watching Steve's unchanging face watch her and her charge. 


	2. Chapter 2

Her direct and determined warpath lasted until she was clipping briskly down a Stark mansion hallway and her eyes caught sight of flames outside in the garden. Peggy hesitated, thrown, and let the battle between her purpose and her curiosity rage for a while. Her curiosity won out - there had to be a reason the staff had not put out such an obvious fire yet. 

As she approached the flames she found they belonged to a small, impromptu bonfire that had been started in the garden. The fact that the fire was in direct line of sight of Howard's office and the fact that Tony was standing before it, feeding the flames from a haphazard pile of paper-esque objects both answered Peggy's initial questions and raised further ones. She approached casually, body language non-threatening, burying the frustration and fire that had driven her to the Stark household in the first place. Tony's gaze fastened on her sharply, but he did not make a sound that either welcomed her or chased her away. As she neared him, however, she saw him try to subtly cover the papers at his feet so she couldn't see what they were. She let it be, for now. 

"Are we upset that Stark industries isn't the leading name in indoor heating? Or are you simply celebrating the end of another school year by burning your notes?" 

She realised in a rush that she hadn't actually spent time with Tony in a long while - time had seemed to pick up to a gallop around her, snatching good intentions of communicating with a number of dear people from her fingers and flinging them aside before she could make good on them. Tony was noticeably taller, but the thing that struck Peggy hardest was that her probing was met with the stony face of guarded knowledge and experience instead of the open, emotive reaction of a child. He'd always been free with his exuberance and his words, but she now had only his rigid back and the crackling of the fire as company. A part of her heart grieved deeply. 

"Well, I dare say that I wish I could use the same tactics on Howard for the piece I came to say," Peggy pushed, changing tactics. "I just somehow don't think it would have quite the desired effect if I stormed in and set fire to his desk. Although it would be highly satisfying."

This earned her a snort, and Tony's fingers playing with whatever he'd been about to throw in the fire before she showed up. "Howard keeps changing his mind on whether I'm good enough to be treated like a grownup or not," he responded, stiffly. "The latest decision is that I'm a reckless, stupid kid who isn't allowed to choose my own life. So I'm just acting like he expects me to. Gotta live up to those expectations, right?" 

The bitter defiance all but oozed from his words, and although Peggy knew what a devil the teenage years turned one into, she couldn't help but be worried. Howard and Tony had never shared a typical father-son bond, and the interactions between them had grown even more strained since Howard had sent seven-year-old Tony to boarding school against his wishes. She hoped that now that she'd gotten him to start talking the usual Tony floodgates would open, but the silence stretched on, dark and uncomfortable. 

With skill born of years of practice, Peggy let Tony glare into the fire and shifted the pile of papers he was intending to burn, her movements much subtler than his earlier ones had been. It was both surprising and not to find one half of Steve's face staring at her. A quick glance over the pile confirmed her initial guess - Tony was burning all of his Captain America apparel. Which meant, among other things, that whatever had happened between the Stark men that afternoon had at least a small bit in common with what she had driven over to yell at Howard about. Peggy took a deep, fortifying breath. 

"I'm not... I've saved all the valuable stuff," Tony muttered, and when she glanced over he looked away, shamefaced. He shuffled guiltily, still carefully avoiding her eyes. "This is all stuff you can find anywhere for cheap."

"None of it is valuable - not really," Peggy replied, evenly. "The true value of Steve Rogers lay in his character and his determination to help others. Those ideals he stood for, and that he passes on to others even now, are what are valuable. Not posters or fliers, no matter how _original vintage_ they are."

She'd been trying for soothing and understanding; had been trying for the pep talks she'd given him as a child. But Tony's face shuttered off and, far too late, she remembered the chart from his childhood that demanded he live up to what was perceived as Steve's standard. She wondered how long Tony had put up with it before he'd revolted; wondered if it had been one of the first things he'd burned. Defiantly, Tony threw the poster he'd been holding onto the fire in front of her, gaze pointedly far from her and body language closing her out again. 

She made once more attempt to reach him and hold him close in a kindred understanding as she once had. "I assume your father's newly decided trip to the Arctic will mean he misses your showcase." Tony glanced at her in surprise, and her lip quirked. "Come, now. Did you really think Jarvis could keep quiet about it? He's phoned three times to make sure I know the date and how absolutely brilliant your work is going to be." An embarrassed, indulgent, pleased tint spread across Tony's cheeks as he ducked his head again, this time with softer eyes and relaxed shoulders. "You've worked hard on it all year. Your father should be there." Not out chasing the ghost of men long dead. 

Tony stiffened a little again and then shrugged mulishly. "It's not like he cares, anyway. All my work is robotics stuff. He doesn't believe it will ever come to anything. 'Stark men make weapons, not glorified can openers,'" he parroted in a rather accurate mimic of Howard's dismissive scoff.

"Just because you share the same last name does _not_ mean you have to do exactly the same things with your genius," Peggy said, firmly. She wanted to add that Howard's path had been forged by war and desperation but that his could be different - that he could learn from the mistakes they'd all made instead of dooming himself to repeat them. 

But before she could, Tony said in a small voice, "Even Obie agrees."

"Obadiah Stane," Peggy began, but then caught herself. 

For all the distant unease Stane caused in her - her husband frequently said he had the instincts of a snake, which made him a great businessman but a slightly dubious friend in her books - he had been loyal to Howard, good for the business and encouraging to Tony, taking on the role of surrogate slightly distant uncle to Jarvis' surrogate father. As far as she could tell, he was good for Tony in a lot of ways. It just so happened that while Howard and Stane saw eye-to-eye about a lot of things, Tony had too much Maria and both Jarvises in him to ever really slip into that fold seamlessly. It was something she was very grateful for. But she couldn't say that to Tony, either. Not in that fragile a moment. 

"Obidiah Stane was meant to be a weapons distributor," she said, instead. "That doesn't mean that you have to be. Would you rather take over only the SI robotics division and leave the rest to Howard and Stane?" The look of pure, aching desire on Tony's face said what he would not allow his tongue to say. "Then we shall just have to show your father what an excellent idea that is on all accounts." Tony pulled a face at her. "You underestimate how much logic I can pound into Howard Stark's head," she told him, primly.

And then she wished she hadn't. Because Tony was giving her a shy but genuine smile and she was remembering how the Peggy and Howard from back when her statement had been true had both changed. Howard more than she, in most ways. And the friend she'd once been able to build an intelligence agency with was now buried somewhere so deep she barely saw him anymore. And perhaps Howard himself knew that - perhaps that was exactly why his attempts to find Steve had become so near-manic. 

"I'll name my next creation after you," Tony promised, glib and teasing. 

She took the slight way out with grace, raising a jokingly unimpressed eyebrow at him. "You're going to name your next robotic arm 'Peggy'?" she asked flatly. 

"No," Tony shot back at once, cheeky grin breaking free, "I'm going to call it 'U'."

"Wit of a jester," she deadpanned, but her mouth twitched furiously and betrayed her. "Please don't die of smoke inhalation before then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another terror of a Stark to deal with."

Peggy stooped forward, picked up one of the posters from the pile on the ground and flung it into the flames. Tony's expression was flabbergasted, jaw slack with shock, and Peggy let herself grin freely as she walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Tony wanting to go into robotics instead of weaponry was one gifted to me by [ The Soldier and The Hurricane. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478759/chapters/10181324) If you have not read this fic then I implore you to do so. Despite it being an AU/canon-divergence, contradicting a few tiny things the Agent Carter TV show has since established and being part of a series that really isn't my personal cup of tea, this fic is one of my favourites ever. The characterisations, dialogue and Tony and Howard interactions are, for want of a more telling adjective, shvdvsvsba. And I am always and forever open to scream about my favourite scenes with people: Tony and Howard and the adult vs child talk; Jarvis and Howard's conversation; Peggy and Tony on the phone together; and, of course, Tony and Howard and the 'moments changing your life' scene. Seriously. Hit me up. I can go on about them forever. Great, great fic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for overt mentions of Canon character death.

It was a huge relief to leave the stifling crowd behind in favour of the quiet hallways. They seemed darker and sadder than she'd remembered, as though the whole house was mourning the loss of the hands and heart and mind that had cared for it so fondly for so many years. Peggy seemed to feel all those years at once as she moved slowly toward her guesstimated destination; the ache in her chest made her entire body feel heavy and tired. She was so sick of putting people in the ground before her. 

The door was locked when she tried the handle, and that all but confirmed her suspicions. "Tony?" She knocked softly on the door. "It's Peggy." Silence answered her. "I'm not here to force you to go back into the hall," she promised. "I'm just... I'm here to... To talk... I know... I know how hard..." 

Her voice caught and she took a few steadying breaths, leaning against the door. Still only silence from the other end; not even a whisper when she leaned her ear against it. She shut her eyes for a long moment and let time wash senselessly around her. Then she rallied herself. She'd come there with a purpose. 

"I have a letter for you." She fished it out of her handbag. "We found it on Mr Jarvis' bedstand. The nurse said he wanted to tell you himself, but wrote it down just in case... It must be important," she pressed, but still only silence responded. "I'll read it to you." 

She hoped, with what she knew about Tony and the few things he kept private and close to his chest, that her declaration would force him to storm out and demand she keep her nose out of his business. But when there was still only silence, she had no choice but to make good on her threat.

"Tell young sir..." Reading Jarvis' neat loop made her have to take a few more deep breaths. "Tell young sir that I retract all previous statements concerning my part in the new home security system he is building. His vision for it is perfect, and I would be honoured for him to continue with his proposed model. I have even a small attempt at humour to offer for the system's name: Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. I hope he finds the acronym adequate and full of my love."

She had no idea what the note meant, but from the room behind her she heard the unmistakable sounds of Tony beginning to sob. Moving her ear away from the door, Peggy allowed herself to slide to the floor, clutching the note tightly. In a few years, she would back a decision to keep a terrible secret from Tony, thinking it for his own good. It would be the start of Tony's path diverging from hers so spectacularly that she would look back many, many years later and mourn what could have remained between them. 

But for that moment they were kindred, united spirits, holding each other close even through a closed door. And Peggy stood guard and let Tony grieve in a way nobody else would let him, full of fierce sorrow and fierce pride in equal measures. 

**Author's Note:**

> And here, for your extended viewing pleasure, are [ a whole slew of Godmother!Peggy gifs](http://mamalaz.tumblr.com/tagged/godmother-peggy) made by the darn fabulous Mamalaz.


End file.
